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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042476">Coffee And Spiced Chocolate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/forest_roses/pseuds/forest_roses'>forest_roses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>stars showing through the seams [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wolf 359 (Radio)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Always, Christmas, Coffee Shops, I don't know why either, It's nowhere near christmas, M/M, Snow, Trans Daniel Jacobi, also in case you haven't noticed, and near-apocalyptic traumas from seven and a half light years away from earth, and yet i present you with this, i might have a thing for people kissing against a wall, my humble one am ramblings, my same exact ending i apparently use for every single fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:55:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/forest_roses/pseuds/forest_roses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He's changed so much in the time you've known him, and you still have trouble matching the man he was before to the one sitting in front of you. He's still Eiffel, pop culture enthusiast and slightly insufferably dramatic, but he's also Douglas to you now (Doug on the rare occasions you are confident enough to call him that). Douglas likes real coffee, and old terrible movies, and sketching in the corners of your notebooks while you pretend not to be fond of him.</p>
<p>Look, Jacobi is gay and soft and so am I. I offer no further explanations or excuses.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(queerplatonic for Hera and Maxwell), Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi, Hera/Alana Maxwell, Isabel Lovelace/Renée Minkowski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>stars showing through the seams [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coffee And Spiced Chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'll stop writing in 2nd person pov, I said. I promise, I said.</p>
<p>I needed to write after not writing for way too long, and the words just kind of fell onto the page. I can't be held accountable for this. It also doesn't really fit within my Jacoffel au series but I'm putting it in there anyways.</p>
<p>Loosely inspired by the concept of the apartment in the Daredevil Netflix series where the billboard lights up the room at night. I also have not seen the show in five years, so I may be misremembering it, but it's aesthetic, so I'll go with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's two am when you decide to head home from the Christmas party. You've actually enjoyed being here; it's nice to have friends who like spending time with you and who have also shared the same horrifying near-apocalyptic traumas seven and a half light years away from Earth. You're tired now though, and there's only so many times you can watch the same plot occur across thirty holiday movies in a row. Hera and Maxwell are half an hour into an intense discussion about some complicated new technology that no one else in the group understands, and Minkowski and Lovelace are close together on the couch, talking quietly. They all look happy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eiffel seems happy too, a little further removed from the group, but still included in the conversations. He’s teasing Lovelace and Minkowski right now, and you see Lovelace roll her eyes fondly at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of you stand up at the same time; a coincidence. He meets your eyes and laughs, and for a moment you feel your heart speed up and beat louder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daniel Jacobi, like a teenager with a crush. Who would have guessed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You smile and say your goodbyes, and when you walk out the door, he walks with you. It's less of a coincidence this time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You get coffee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He suggested this place, a little cafe on the corner of a busy street, surprisingly quiet for this area. You can tell right away why he likes it: the music sounds like it's (just barely) on the cooler side, there's a million old movie posters on the walls, and the menu is an incomprehensible mashup of pop culture references that you'd sooner die than read out loud.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You like it too, but it's less about the cafe itself and more about the company.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's changed so much in the time you've known him, and you still have trouble matching the man he was before to the one sitting in front of you. He's still Eiffel, pop culture enthusiast and slightly insufferably dramatic, but he's also Douglas to you now (Doug on the rare occasions you are confident enough to call him that). Douglas likes real coffee, and old terrible movies, and sketching in the corners of your notebooks while you pretend not to be fond of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doug likes walking in the city late at night, clutching a second coffee in both hands, cheeks slightly pink from the cold, watching light snow drift down around you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doug likes walking you back against the brick wall of an old building next to a crumbling bridge, leaning in close and kissing you more gently than you'd imagined. He likes it when you twist a hand into his hair and pull him a little closer, and when you pull away but keep your head close to his, eyes still closed and feeling the steam of the coffee he's still holding in one hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doug tastes like mint and spiced chocolate, like pine trees and lime with cherry tomatoes. He tastes like coffee, and snow, and the terrible cookies Maxwell insisted on baking for the party earlier. It's a strange mix, but you've never really been one to like the conventional.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You like walking back to his tiny apartment, the billboard across the street lighting up his living room, and trading kisses and quiet conversations in the (not quite) darkness. You like laying with his arms around you in his too-small bed, letting yourself feel safe for the first time in a long time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You like him, Doug, and Douglas, and Eiffel, and for reasons you can't explain, he likes you, Daniel Jacobi. He calls you a good man right before he falls asleep, and you let yourself believe that too (even just for a moment).</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and kudos are much appreciated. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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